


Morning after

by MedeaV



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Also Bucky has his metal arm back, Because of Reasons, Bucky does not remember everything, Couch Sex, Demolished rooms, Drama, F/M, Fingering, Guilt, Hangover, Natasha Needs a Hug, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Secrets, smut in the second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 19:58:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8115505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedeaV/pseuds/MedeaV
Summary: It had probably not been the smartest idea in the world to sleep with Steve Rogers' rediscovered childhood friend. Yet here she was with Bucky, who still didn't remember everything. Bucky, whom she hadn't told about their past. Bucky, whom she had lied to.





	1. Chapter 1

It had probably not been the smartest idea in the world to sleep with Steve Rogers' rediscovered childhood friend. Yet here she was.

Natasha tried her hardest not to move, though she was feeling twitchy. Barnes was sprawled out beside her, at least not on her, breathing deeply. Gosh, he was snoring softly. She shouldn’t find that so endearing.

Waking up had been fine. It was certainly almost noon, but that didn’t matter particularly, and her head was hurting a bit, but no major hangover. However, when her thoughts drifted off for a bit, she realized. What she had said. And what she had not said.

Natasha let her gaze wander around the room, ignoring the tightness in her chest. It was a mess, frankly, and that made her feel both great and terrible at the same time.

She slid out of the bed as silently as possible. The floor was covered with a light, soft carpet, that she could dig her toes into. She remembered rolling over it, his mouth fastened on her breast. Oh boy.

Natasha pushed herself up, looking at his sleeping figure. Peaceful. Happy. She felt bad for it. Not telling him. Lying, one might even say.

She pushed the thoughts aside and went searching for her underwear. Her bra was lying near the door, along with her shirt hanging from the doorknob. She put both on, silently rejoicing in the memory of his fingers sliding over her bare skin. At least memories. She could allow herself that.

Her panties were by his wardrobe, that he had pushed her against before dropping to his knees. Her mouth watered thinking about the sight he had made. On his knees, grinning up at her. Burying his face between her thighs.

Natasha cut that line of thought off before she started to moan, instead collecting her panties off the carpet and silently slipping them on. Good. Covered at least. Not decent, but covered. And James- Barnes had still not woken.

Her skirt proved to be a more difficult matter. She couldn’t even remember when she had taken that one off. If that was before or after she had sunk down on him, relishing in his exquisite groan. Could be both. She had been drunk, after all. Drunk on him.

She checked on his bedside, without result, then carefully scanning the part of the blanket that was squashed around his feet. Somewhere in there? If so, how could she get that out without waking him? After all, she felt miserable right now. Really not in the mood for morning-after-talk. Especially not with James. James, who still didn’t remember everything.

Natasha checked the heap of things that had had to make place for them on the bedside table. Books, mostly. An alarm clock, tissues, the usual stuff. No sign of her skirt though.

She considered putting it all back up onto the bedside table but that would probably make too much noise. He would have to deal with the chaos that they had caused in his apartment. Hopefully he would think that it had been worth it. Hopefully he would still think that even after he found out everything.

Natasha should tell him. She really should. But right now, she would rather do a thousand walks of shame rather than telling Barnes the truth. That she had omitted something. Something important. Important like the fact that he used to know her, long before he shot her in Odessa, that they used to work together, that they used to  _ love  _ each other, even if they had not dared to call it that. That kind of important. That kind of oh-my-god-how-could-you-not-tell-me.

It had been her best intentions at first. Bucky was with Steve, Bucky didn’t remember, Bucky had enough on his plate as it was. He didn’t need more pain from her. He would remember eventually. And if he didn’t, well, then he didn’t.

Then the lie had become all too comfortable for Natasha. She could greet him when she came over to see Steve. She could hang out with them. She could tease Steve about Sharon, together with him.

But now she had stepped over the line. She had fucked up. By fucking him. By screwing him and not telling him that it was actually not their first time together. The one thing she hadn’t wanted to do.

Natasha didn’t even quite remember how it came to that. They had been hanging out, Steve, Sam, James and her, not for the first time. They were at a bar. There had been alcohol, but not that much. Not until Steve got picked up by Sharon. Sam had then left around midnight, saying he could impossibly keep up with two drinking Russians.

Natasha should have left then. But it had been fun. Well, of course it had been. Still, she should have remembered that it wasn’t 2006 anymore. She shouldn’t have dared to do shots alone with James at a bar well after midnight. It had led her here, after all.

She caught a glimpse of the black fabric of her skirt, under her pillow, and walked around the bed to collect it. What else did she have with her last night? She couldn’t leave anything here, otherwise she would have to come back.

Maybe, if she left no trace of Natasha in his apartment and was gone before he woke up, maybe he would think it had all only been a drunken dream of his. And he would be too embarrassed to bring it up. Or, if he did remember the night, he would have the decency to treat it like a one night stand and never mention it again.

The thing was, after all, she hadn’t told anybody else either. Not Sam. Not Steve. Not Clint. Again, it had made sense at first, not wanting them to know before Bucky did. Now, however, she was about to get caught in her own web.

Natasha reached for the doorknob, holding her breath while turning it around. It clicked softly and she was through the door before she could even check if James was stirring or not.

The living room was a mess as well. It was so much like them to leave chaos everywhere they went, but James didn’t know that. Natasha wondered what he would see when he looked at the pushed over coffee table, the vase that was soaking the carpet, the littered cushions. Probably memories. Memories from last night? How she had pushed him onto the coffee table and started biting his abdomen? How he had shaken so much that the table finally tipped over and left them sprawled on the floor? How he had gotten her cushions so she didn’t hit her head on his couch, so they didn’t have to move? Or even older memories, of the smile that had slowly cracked on her face, long ago, the smile that only he could put there? Whispered words, stolen touches, muffled moans? Unexpected kindness?

Natasha needed to get going before she started crying. She had kicked off her heels as soon as they had made it through the door, not bothering with them a second longer than necessary. Consequently, they were still around there, littered over the floor. The better question was her purse. When he had started to suck a mark on her neck, she had had  _ really  _ bigger preoccupations. Like, pushing him onto the coffee table and making him squeal.

Her head was not particularly helpful either. There had definitely been too much alcohol. She could blame it all on that. At least, if she got going before he caught her in her emotionally vulnerable, slightly hungover, self-pitying state. She went into the kitchen, went through a few cupboards until finding a glass that she filled with water. She could raid his kitchen looking for aspirin, but that would take too long. Things had to be accepted as they were.

Natasha put the empty glass in the sink, returning to the living room. She groaned when slipping her heels back on. She’d really prefer her running shoes right now. Whatever. She leaned over the couch, pushing the cushions around to see if her purse was anywhere to be found.

A shuffling noise alerted her before the bedroom door was pushed open and James stepped out, in all his ruffled hair and almost naked glory. Natasha felt like she should close her eyes. She had no right to see him like this, merely in his boxer shorts. Not after everything she had done.

He rasped out a “Mornin’”, leaning in the doorframe, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Gosh, had she made him that hoarse or was that just the alcohol taking its toll?

“Good morning,” Natasha returned, going back to defiling his sofa. Ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach, the warm feeling in her chest and her heart beating in her ears. “Have you seen my purse?”

“Uh,” he answers eloquently, yawning again. “Not really, no.”

He shouldn’t be here, then her fingers wouldn’t be shaking like this. He should be sleeping still, sprawled all over the bed, sleeping sweetly. While she slipped out of his life like she had never been there in the first place. Well, she had missed that chance.

He squinted at her shoes. “Leavin’ already?”

Really, he shouldn’t be this attractive this early in the morning. And he shouldn’t ask her to stay, after she had spent the night betraying him in the worst way possible. And he didn’t even know. It made her feel sick with guilt.

“I need to go,” she said briefly, stepping around the couch and picking up her purse from the floor. The sooner she was out here the better. She had already done enough to him, far more than that actually.

James- Bucky started grinning, pushing himself away from the doorframe. Her heartbeat was anormal. “I’ll make coffee.”

“That’s sweet but-” But I betrayed you. I lied to you. I’m the worst friend ever. And you don’t even know yet. “I really need to go.”

James- Bucky squinted at her again. “Something wrong?”

“Everything fine,” she lied unconvincingly. “Or did you-”

“Doll,” he interrupted her, cracking the grin that she always wanted to turn into a deep, heartfelt moan. “You’re not really about to ask me if I had  _ fun  _ last night.”

Natasha smiled weakly, feeling even worse because all that  _ fun  _ was a lie. Based on a lie. And it was all her fault. “Good to hear. But I really need to go.”

“Okay.” He sighed, ruffling through his unholy mess of hair, looking down at the floor. “But maybe we could- tomorrow-”

Oh gosh, he was not really about to ask her out. She was a liar. She was a traitor. She was a horrible friend, not only to him, but to Steve and the rest as well. She had already caused enough damage. “I don’t-” She interrupted him before he could finish the sentence and she could say  _ yes.  _ “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He deflated visibly, and it hurt so bad, seeing him like this. Knowing it was her fault. “Oh. Okay.”

“It’s not about you, it’s-” She bit her lip. She needed to tell him, force the words out. No matter how much it hurt. “It’s that I - there is-”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you seeing someone?”

She thought of Bruce immediately. But Bruce was not here. Bruce had not been here in a long time. And Bruce couldn’t love a monster like her anyways. “No, that’s not it. It’s just- I lied to you.”

It was out now, at least the first bit, and he was not looking particularly pleased, of course not. But there was no turning back. “About what?”

“About-” Her brain was empty, no words coming out. And every second it got worse. “You said you remembered everything that you have done.”

“I remember shooting you,” he answered with a grim look, crossing his arms in front of his bare chest. “Twice. And choking you.”

Oh, how innocent that was against her treachery. At least he had not known what he was doing. “I know for a fact-” Natasha started again. “I know for a fact that you do not remember everything about me.”

He was staring at her now, making her want to roll in on herself and cry. But first he needed to know. He deserved to. “That’s impossible.”

Natasha smiled weakly. “I- I didn’t want to tell you before you remembered. And I didn’t want to- get close to you before you did. I’m so sorry-”

“I think-” He cut her off and she shut up duly. Whatever he was going to say, she deserved it. If he started screaming at her, it would still be better than this tense silence. “You should go.”

Natasha nodded, grabbing her purse tightly. “I-” She wanted to say how sorry she was, but she didn’t get to. She had hurt him and now she should leave him the hell alone, not burdening him with her self-pity just to feel a little better. She didn’t get to do that. “I’ll leave.”

Bucky- James was still staring at the floor when she pulled the door open, words almost falling from her treacherous lips but she bit them back. She had hurt him enough already. She didn’t get to say she was sorry.

The door fell shut with a clicking noise and she was alone in the hall. Alone with the shoes that were killing her feet and her strangled heart and her broken, barely audible sobs. She clutched her purse to her chest and sank against the wall, closing her eyes. Breathing. It was okay. She was hurting, badly, but she had come clean. That was important. Not if he hated her now.

She deserved it, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha was still leaning against the wall in the hall when the door opened again. She clutched her purse to her chest, as if in defense, looking at Bucky. He had put some clothes on, but he did not look any happier. “You can come in,” he stated, then retreated back into his apartment.

Natasha stared, barely catching herself before the door fell closed. She got a hand in though. Then she hesitated. Did she really want to do this to herself? She was still hungover. Emotionally, mostly. On the other hand, if she did not do it now, she might never get the chance.

Bucky was not in the living room. Natasha thought about slipping her shoes off, but she didn’t dare. She could hear him rummaging in the kitchen and slowly made her way there.

Bucky was just cleaning his breakfast bowl, not even looking at her when she cleared her throat. She stood awkwardly next to the fridge, watching him work, waiting. Waiting for whatever judgment would come down on her. She deserved it, after all.

When it came, though, it was not judgment. It was a question. “Did I- Did I hurt you?” he asked, not looking up. “Back then?”

Natasha shook her head, even though he wasn’t looking. “No.” It was the truth after all. He hadn’t hurt her. Losing him had.

Bucky sighed, turning the water off and rubbing his wet hands dry on his dark jeans. He generally seemed to gravitate towards dark colours. Then he turned around to her and she just stopped breathing, frozen in place. He stepped towards her slowly, stopping just one step short of running into her. Natasha couldn’t breathe. His eyes gave her an all-over and she became very aware of her bird nest of hair, her swollen eyes from lack of sleep and her chapped lips from his kissing and biting them.

Bucky moved around her, then, carelessly drawing the fridge open. Natasha’s breathing was still very shallow and she didn’t dare turn around. He was still so close. “So,” he remarked casually, grabbing a pack of milk, studying the label and putting it back. “That was just you rekindling old-”

“No.” She bit her lip because she interrupted him. But she just couldn’t have him believing she only cared about him because of their past. Because he had once meant everything to her.

He stepped around her again, eyeing her curiously from the side. She didn’t dare turning her head and looking at him. “So what then?”

The tension became too much all at once and it all came out in a loud snort. “Jeez, Barnes. It’s not my fault I’m attracted to your terrible sense of humor and your inability not to do anything stupid for five goddamn minutes.”

He was biting back a grin now, she could clearly see that, and stretched out his right arm to run a finger over her cheek down to her jaw. “You’re- you’re somethin’ else, Nat.”

Natasha shifted between her feet, trying not to blush. There was still tension, but it was a different kind of tension now. She was still not comfortable, however. “A lying, completely untrustworthy else?”

His finger trailed over her neck, pushing back a strand of her red hair. “I don’t know,” he answered lightly, eyes fixed on his finger and her neck. “I feel like I don’t actually know you. Might be me, though, because you seem to know me pretty well.”

There was definitely an accusation in there. Natasha unconsciously squared her shoulders. “That wasn’t you.”

“No?” he repeated, his finger sliding over her collarbone. It was not her fault that her breathing was getting labored. “Well, shame. Cause you’re not getting that guy back.”

“I told you, that’s not what this is about,” Natasha reminded him, halting when his finger had passed the dip between her collarbones and was going straight down. Oxygen was overrated. She could do with adrenaline.

“Hm.” His finger moved further, pulling her shirt with it until his exploration was stopped by her bra. “Is? I thought you wanted to leave. Yet here you are.”

Natasha closed her eyes, ignoring the pain. “I thought it was for the best.”

His finger trailed back up, delving a bit to the left and right. “Still want to go?”

“No,” she admitted, not paying attention to anything but the slide of his finger and his voice.

There was a grin in there now. “Turn around.”

She did, cracking an eye open to see he was nudging her towards the fridge. She pressed her forehead against the cool surface, sighing.

“Ya know…” His leg slid between hers, getting cozy with her left one. “Those murder heels do have their advantages.” His left hand was on her hip now, stroking. “May I?”

“May I what?” Natasha asked back, closing her eyes.

His hand slid down over the curve of her ass, tugging lightly on the hem of her skirt. “That.”

Great, she was already all hot and bothered. “Yeah.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to the juncture of her neck, moving his hand back up, cupping her backside. “You’re so-” His teeth grazed over her neck, causing her to shiver. “But also so-” He started sucking a mark on her skin.

Natasha did not know what to say, mostly because he wasn’t really saying anything. She was breathing through her open mouth, creating wet spots on the cool surface of the fridge, constantly fading. “Yeah, I know.”

His hand slipped under her skirt. “I really don’t know-” She startled when her purse hit the floor with a thud. Right, she had forgotten about that. He laughed. “Getting distracted?”

“Distracted, my ass,” she returned sarcastically, stopping when his hand moved just there. Not exactly where she wanted it to be. “Is this some sort of punishment?”

“Nah.” Two of his fingers slipped inside her panties as well. “This is fun.”

Natasha did not get to answer because his finger suddenly entered her. “Jam- Bucky.”

Bucky teased a bit around her entrance. “That’s not what you wanted to say though.”

“James,” Natasha whispered, pressing her forehead to the fridge and pushing back against his hand. He groaned, slipping the finger all the way in and dragging it along her walls. “James.”

She was just relishing in the feeling for a while. Then she opened her eyes. “Having fun?”

He hummed affirmatively and she could feel the vibration against her back. “You not?”

“Don’t stop.” She sighed when his finger was back at rubbing her. “What do you want?”

“I want you to come.” The finger inside her was replaced by another one and his wet pointer finger slid over her clitoris. “Right here, against the fridge, around my fingers. And then I want you to come on the couch table, from my mouth, and then I want to fuck you on the bed until you scream my name.”

“And you think you can do all of that,” Natasha challenged, despite her knees going weak already.

He bit her neck, grinning. “Oh, doll.” She gasped when he slid the finger back into her and put a metal one on her clit, very carefully, but also cold. Oh, she was going to faint. Leaning against the fridge, getting fingered by Bucky Barnes.

He pushed her skirt up and her panties down, for better access. She was grinding back against his hand, wanting him to just get a fucking move on. “Well, then you better do something about it.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked back, dragging his metal hand up the inside of her thigh. “Tell me.”

“I want-” Natasha breathed deeply, turning her head to the side, pressing her cheek against the fridge. “Get your metal finger wet and back here.”

He gently nudged her head to the other side so she could see him licking over his metal index, grinning. She shuddered involuntarily. Then he slid the hand down her front, placing the wet finger on her clit. She groaned when he started moving it, dropping her head back on his shoulder.

With two human fingers inside her and the metal one rubbing gentle circles over her clit, she could really do this more often. Her mouth was hanging open. Judging by the way he was staring down her cleavage, it wasn’t bad for him either.

She grinned, reaching behind herself to open the clasp of her bra, then putting her hand on her right breast. His look betrayed his jealousy. “You keep your hands where they are, Soldier.”

He groaned, thrusting his hips against her ass, knocking her against the fridge. “Jesus, Natasha.”

“Natalia,” she whispered, thumbing her nipple.

He pushed his human fingers in and out of her faster. “What?”

“It’s-” She couldn’t explain. She could only  _ need.  _ “Say it. Natalia.”

“Natalia,” he tried but it was not the same. It was- something. She reached around with her free left hand and grabbed his crotch just on this side of too hard. “Jesus fucking Christ, Natalia!”

Ah, there it was. She grinned, turning into a moan when his fingers dragged over the right spot. He pushed her all the way against the fridge, her face turned to the side, baring her neck. Her right hand was stuck between her breast and the hard surface but she didn’t need it when his fingers were fucking her at this pace. His breath was warm against her cheek.

She was feeling warm all over and started to squirm, but his body kept her effectively locked in place. He had removed his left hand and used it now to push her shirt and bra up to her neck, pressing her bare skin against the cool surface of the fridge. She squealed at the sudden coldness. “Oh god, James-”

“Natalia.” It sounded right now, so  _ right.  _ His lips on her neck. “I want you to come.”

She nodded somewhat stupidly, moaning between his fingers and the still not quite warm fridge. His pace picked up still a little bit and his lips moved to the portion of her neck that gave her goosebumps. God, she wanted him. The knot in her belly contracted even more, close to bursting.

He crooked his fingers and hooked them against  _ just the right spot,  _ pressing down hard and not letting go. The knot in her belly exploded, running over her whole body in shudders and shudders. The blood was pumping in her ears, her head spinning, her heart thrumming against the hard surface. She couldn’t even hear her own moans.

The fridge had warmed to her skin, as she realized when she came down from her high. James was withdrawing his fingers, diligently licking them clean. Natasha shuddered again. “Bed. Now.”

He obliged by grabbing her around the waist, spinning her around and tugging her with him, plastering her face with kisses. She grabbed what she could get hold of, which turned out to be his shirt, and tried to drag it off him. Not exactly looking where they were going, they promptly stumbled over the couch. Or maybe he pushed her, Natasha was not really trusting her senses right now. His shirt flew off first, but then she needed to get rid of the shirt and bra that he pushed over her head and before she was even finished with that, his mouth was on her left breast already. She groaned, not exactly complaining. His left hand was taking care of the other one.

It got worse, however, when he started sucking marks all over her chest. While she appreciated the effort, it was not exactly doing anything about the throbbing need between her legs. She grabbed his hair. “I want to suck you off.”

He groaned, pressing the heel of his hand against his crotch, almost collapsing on top of her. “I want to eat you out.” He groaned again when he saw her playing with her breasts. “Ya know what, let’s skip that.”

Natasha placed her feet on both sides of his hips. “I don’t have all day, loverboy.”

He pushed her knees to her shoulders, essentially folding her in half, while fumbling with his pants. He had them barely down his thighs when he was pushing into her already. In this position, the angle was instantly right. Natasha began feeling lightheaded. “What name do you want me to scream?”

He grinned, shallowly thrusting into her. “Whatever comes to mind, doll.”

“Sam,” she sighed provocatively, instantly rewarded by a harder thrust. “You’re not really-” he growled against her ear.

She batted her eyelashes at him, feigning innocence. “What?”

“Ya know what, doll-” He was off her suddenly, dropping to the floor and dragging her to him until her hips were up on the armrest. She was about to complain about the burning feeling on her back but-

“Bucky!” He was rubbing the stubble of his chin over her sensitive slit and she was  _ thrashing.  _ “Bucky-”

His reply of “much better” was muffled by her labia. She needed something inside her now, though. The superficial teasing wasn’t doing it anymore. “Get your dick back in me or I swear to God-”

He seemed happy to oblige, pulling her even further over the armrest, plunging into her. Her shoulder blades were still on the armrest while the rest of her was practically hanging in the air, her hips held up by him, her head just lolling back helplessly. It was uncomfortable but she was still moaning. No intention on breaking the equilibrium.

Of course, his metal arm was enough to hold her up, so the fucker could spare a hand to rub over her clit, which he did. She felt somewhat helpless, because frankly, if she did anything she would just fall down, but the adrenaline coming from that was making this even better. “Harder,” she breathed.

He groaned, doing just that, his hipbones slamming into her pelvis with every thrust. Kind of a miracle he hadn’t pushed her off the armrest yet. Her back arched. “Bucky…”

“Nat-” He was clearly trying to say something but had trouble working out the words. “- back on the couch.”

She nodded and he lifted her all the way up before putting her down on the couch. She crawled back while he crawled over her. She drew her knees to her shoulders herself, groaning when he rubbed the head of his dick over her clitoris before pushing into her again. He pressed his face into the backside of her knee. “God- I’m never getting out of you again.”

“Yes, you are,” she contradicted immediately, arching up. “When your hipbones start digging into my-”

She shut up when he started thrusting into her. “Leave me my fantasies,” he returned with an amused grin, biting into the backside of her thigh.

Natasha was going to have marks all over. Not that she minded. She leaned back, entwining her fingers with his, letting him work on tightening the knot in her stomach until it burst, reducing her to a moaning mess of  _ James  _ and  _ yes  _ and  _ harder  _ and  _ James.  _ A mess screaming  _ James. _

She ran her fingers through his hair when his head dropped on her chest, trying to catch his breath. It took some time until she dared to ask the question. “Still mad?”

“Hm?” He lifted his head, looking confused. “Oh. Yeah.”

She sighed, staring at the ceiling. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t help it.” He put his head back down and snorted. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty.”

Somehow, Natasha started laughing at that and once she started, she couldn’t really stop anymore, rolling over the couch. James had to hold her hips up so she didn’t soak everything. “Sorry.” She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. “I just- I don’t know.”

James snorted, but he was grinning. “Think you can hold still long enough while I get something to clean you up?”

Natasha peaked up, grinning widely. “You mean, other than your mouth?”

He groaned. “I’m  _ really  _ done with you right now. You can sleep on the couch.”

“It’s broad daylight,” she reminded him. “And I had neither breakfast nor lunch yet.”

He rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the couch. “Careful there. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

Natasha swallowed her comment about the effective elimination of morning wood, instead planting her feet on the couch, raising her hips and waiting for his return. “You know…”

He handed her a wet cloth. “What?”

She made up her mind and shook her head. “Nothing.” She had wanted to tell him that she thought she might just love him, but it would sound incredibly cheap right now. As long as he didn’t remember how much that meant to her. So she didn’t.

“Ah, you know what.” He grabbed his clothes from the floor. “You’re lucky, I’m hungry as well. I’ll make pancakes.”

Natasha groaned, dropping on her back. “Not pancakes.”

“Yes pancakes,” James returned with a grin before disappearing into the kitchen.


End file.
